


Ghost Story

by Redlionfish



Category: The Blacklist (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-03
Updated: 2017-01-03
Packaged: 2018-09-14 09:06:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9172537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Redlionfish/pseuds/Redlionfish
Summary: Just a little re-imagining of what happens after Liz fakes her death in the end of s3 and Raymond's grief.M Rating for Chapter 4





	1. Chapter 1

     Red didn't even remember getting from the ambulance to the car. He was cold, his legs felt like concrete blocks. His mind swirled with the onslaught of sirens, and the squeal of tires. A black oily cloud of shock and disbelief clung to him. At some point, he remembered Ressler's FBI windbreaker thrown over his shoulders as he was hurried away. He remembered not wanting to leave her there. The horrible feeling of guilt at the thought of her body being handled by strangers, by people who didn't understand her. They didn't understand her temper, or the fire in her eyes when she was determined, or the steely mask her face turned into when she was about to say something hurtful to distance herself from him. They didn't understand her beauty, her reluctant smile, or the way she would push her hand back through her hair. They would never know the glitter of her blue eyes or the feel of her cheek resting on their shoulder.

     He wanted to tell them. He wanted to stay and make sure they didn't disrespect her. He had no reason to believe they would...but it was Lizzy. His Lizzy. She was his world. How was he supposed to handle not being able to hear her voice or see her smile? How was he supposed to handle never being able to laugh at one of her awful jokes again? The world was colder with the absence of her laugh, or her anger. Everything was a little more gray already. The leather seat next to him was offensive because she wasn't seated there, and never would be again.

 

* * *

 

 

     A few weeks had passed, but he hadn't been counting the days. He couldn't remember the last time he shaved, or the last time he spoke to Dembe. His expensive suit was reduced to a stained mess. He was deep in the recesses of a place he could only describe as a modern speak-easy called The Lucky Cat, located under a tea shop of the same name in Tokyo. The low end denizens of the criminal underworld went there to gamble, deal and use in private. He had been inhabiting the same vinyl covered, sticky booth in the back of the room for what seemed like days. In reality it had been hours. He was too drunk , by far, to be somewhere without protection but no one had bothered him. No one seemed interested in the sad middle aged man killing himself one glass at a time.

     He was in the numb place between his ninth and tenth large glass of scotch and dangerously close to black out drunk. His hat was crumpled under his right leg, somewhere along the way his jacket had gone missing. He could feel the bulk of the burner phone in his pocket, but he was pretty sure it was dead. He couldn’t give a damn. He never used the things anyway. Dembe always took the calls. He spared a brief thought for what Dembe and Kate might be going through at that moment. They didn't know where he was or if he was even still alive. He knew he would be going mad with worry if their positions were reversed. He was in that place shamefully drinking to forget her, and in all fairness, he could not do that in the presence of those he loved.

 

     The place was disgusting, and Red felt a pang of guilt at her memory being forgotten in such a place. It wasn’t working anyhow. He could remember everything, as if he had just turned away from her and her image was still burned in his brain. In between the smell of stale sweat and cigarettes, he could swear he smelled a familiar scent. Shampoo maybe. A sweet, herbal smell. Fresh, clean. It occurred to him that it was very out of place here in this basement hell. That's when he heard a laugh that stirred something in his chest. Her laugh but with an ethereal edge to it. He glanced around quickly, but nothing seemed out of place. He had heard it just around the corner...except there was no one around the corner he had any care to see. His mind was playing tricks on him. His grief torturing him. She wasn’t there.

 

      He shook himself and stood, stumbling slightly against the wall as he steadied himself. He felt nauseous and fairly certain the last few drinks hadn't been the best idea. Red reached down and grabbed his crumpled, misshapen fedora, pulling it down onto his head before stumbling toward the restroom. He must have looked a disaster based on the way people stared at him, moving aside to avoid contact. He shoved past a few people, muttering his apologies. That's when he saw her. The familiar tilt of her head, the no nonsense stance. Dressed in a little black dress. Who had convinced her to wear that? He never could, but oh how he had tried.

 

     He couldn't believe what he was seeing. He moved slowly, in a dream like state, his breath held in his throat. He saw his own hand reach out as if in slow motion. He touched her bare shoulder. Suddenly everything had sped up as the woman spun. Not Lizzy. Didn't look anything like her actually. The woman had dark olive skin, black curled hair. Beautiful for sure, but not the kind of beautiful he had wanted. Wanted and would never see again.

 

 "Yes?" she looked down her nose at him, irritated. She moved back toward the wall a step to break contact with his hand.

 

"I-I'm sorry...thought you were...", Red didn't even bother to finish the sentence, just chuckled awkwardly and stumbled onward to the bathroom, a tight feeling in his chest, and the sensation of a punch in his gut.

 

 

* * *

 

 

     Raymond sat in the back of his Mercedes, staring out the window at a snow covered Washington D.C., the sound of soft jazz quietly playing. It was almost too warm in the back of the car, packed into his wool coat and scarf, but he didn't have the inclination to take his coat off. It had only been a few days since Dembe had found him, sleeping his drunken days away in a disgusting little basement motel room in Kabukicho that he seemed to be sharing with a 75 year old Japanese homeless man. He barely remembered his friend easing him into the waiting vehicle. He had protested. He wanted to die there in the filth. It was what he deserved. He hadn’t been the one to physically stop her heart but he had killed her. Red thought he could protect her. He thought he was doing the right thing, despite the protests from those closest to him. Blinded by his need for her, his love for her.


	2. Chapter 2

     He awoke on his jet, covered in a blanket. Dembe had stripped away his vest and what was left of his shirt and let him rest until they arrived back in the United States. Dembe insisted on having him checked over by a doctor, shaved and groomed. His friend had most likely burned his clothes. He dressed in one of his overly expensive three piece suits in preparation for his first meeting back. His business had been suffering in his absence. Dembe had done all he could, but his clients were beginning to feel they were no longer employing Raymond Reddington, the Concierge of Crime, and so it was time for him to come back to his detestable life. The life that had ruined hers. Snuffed it out like a flickering candle, leaving only smoky traces of despair where light had once lived.

 

     Sometimes when he closed his eyes, he could feel her next to him. As if they were in the middle of a brief silence during a car ride. Like somehow, at any moment, she would start talking again, picking up their conversation once more. What he wouldn't give to hear her scold him, tell him how awful he could be. What he wouldn't give to hear her say anything. In his mind, he saw her, laying on that hospital bed, reaching out to him. His last moments seeing her conscious…she had tried to tell him something, but too late. __Raymond, I do love…__

     Suddenly there was a soft warm hand on his. He opened his eyes and slowly looked over. Red was staring into Lizzy's beautiful blue eyes. She had a slight, warm smile on her face and the sun was caressing her skin. She brushed her hair back behind her ear and opened her mouth as if to speak and just as suddenly as she had appeared, she was gone. Gone so completely, it was as if she had never been there. The seat was empty and it hurt. Of course she hadn't been there. Lizzy was gone. He blinked away the tears welling in his eyes quickly, resetting the cold mask of Raymond Reddington as they pulled into an empty alley.

     The car pulled to a stop in front of a warehouse that had once housed a fish market. He stared at the wall, blankly, snapping back to reality when Dembe opened the door for him. He stepped out, taking a deep breath of the crisp winter air. He glanced up as Dembe pressed his weapon into his palm. The cold metal felt alien to him. He stared at it momentarily before lifting his coat and pushing the gun under his waistband. He followed after Dembe and into the building, moving as if in a dream. He really didn't care why they were here. Dembe had told him, but he just felt irritated, inconvenienced.

 

     Red was led into the dark building, through a small hallway, carpeted in what almost appeared to be indoor/outdoor carpeting. The place was freezing, and smelled of wet cardboard. They approached a large man standing before a door. Dembe nodded to him, and they were led inside. The man motioned to a somewhat rusted metal table. Two young Hispanic men in garish pin stripe suits waited for them. From the back of his mind he recalled the little D.C. off-shoot of the Los Zetas gang that had been forming in the nation's capital. Drug dealers, pimps, killers. He had no right to judge. Wasn't he just as bad? He enabled these people. That was who he was. He was Raymond Reddington. It was silly to forget that.

 

     He struggled to not appear irritated or indifferent as they took their seats. In his business it was essential to make the client feel important. One of the men looked nervous, the other looked bored. The bored man was slightly larger, his short black hair slicked back over his scalp. He had a hideous tattoo on his neck of a skull smoking a cigar. Red remained unimpressed. Based on their attitudes, it looked like this one had been given the responsibility of leading the negotiation, though Red knew this was not their leader. Had they really sent a lieutenant to deal with him? If he had the energy in him to feel offended, he would have.

 

"Heard you went soft, Reddington. Where you been, man? We been trying to meet with you for weeks." Smoking skull was getting confident. Dembe shifted uncomfortably, glancing at Raymond's face.

"What's your name?" Red grumbled, pursing his lips and slowly looking up to meet the man's gaze.

 

  
"Hector...", he responded. His face fixed into a mask of cockiness. A small smile had formed there, revealing a set of disgusting yellowing teeth.

 

Red looked over at the nervous man, "...and you?"

 

"...Fernando, Mr. Reddington..."

 

     With a calm, swift motion, Red reached behind his back , his hand closing on his gun and brought it up to casually rest in the air between him and Hector before he began, "Hector...I really am struggling to understand why your superiors decided to send such a novice to this meeting, and also what would make that novice think that arrogance was an acceptable addition to our transaction, but I would advise that you get up...go get your superior, and explain to them why their price just went up on this little transportation deal." his voice was low, but calm. He stared at the man through his dark glasses, his eyes as hard and dark as obsidian.

 

"You have no idea what you are---" Hector stood suddenly, pointing his finger angrily at Red. That moment is when the gun went off in Red's hand and Hector yelled before he fell back into an old filing cabinet, then crumpled to the ground, a single shot to his chest. Red then swung the gun around to the other man.

 

"Congratulations, you are now negotiating this deal. As I told your associate, the price has gone up and my patience is wearing awfully thin...do we understand one another, Fernando?"

  
     A chill went up his spine. He could swear he heard the low laughter of his Lizzy as if she were just in the next room.

 

* * *

 

 

     Red stood on the balcony of his hotel, a glass of scotch in hand. The wind was a little too cold, but it helped to keep him centered. His business had been suffering the last few months. He was acting like a fool, and he knew it. It was hard not to though, with grief rushing through his veins and clouding his mind.

 

     He heard a few knocks on the glass of the french door behind him, and turned to see Dembe beckoning him inside. He looked back out into the night, admiring the lights of Hamburg. He watched the people down on the street, strolling along, admiring the expensive storefronts. He watched the couples, arm in arm. He swallowed past the knot in his throat. His heart broke all over again. He had never gotten to tell her how he felt about her. He had whispered it to her after she was gone. He had cried and begged for her to come back to him. But she wouldn't hear him. She couldn't because she was gone. Her body so still as he kissed her palms, his tears running down his face. He was so tired.

"You really need to move on, Raymond..." her voice was so sweet. He had stopped being startled a long time ago. He had seen her everywhere he went, had been hearing her voice when he was alone. He could feel her presence next to him, as if when he turned a bit to the right he would see her standing there. He smelled her, felt her.

"Yes I do, sweetheart." he whispered, finishing his drink as he turned to head back inside.

 

* * *

 

 

 

     Red awoke suddenly in his apartment, tangled in the sheets. It was early. His head was pounding. He had definitely had too much to drink. It had been happening too often, he knew. Dembe had tried to speak to him, but he hadn't listened. He was too stubborn sometimes. They had been down this road before, he and Dembe. They watched over one another. Dembe had pulled him out of his bouts of alcoholism before, and he was trying to do it again.

     Red had been absent too long. It was time for him to see to his responsibilities and to those he loved. Dembe deserved better than he was getting and so did Kate. With a sigh he pushed himself up out of bed, disturbed at the state he had allowed his bedroom to be in. One of the corners of the sheet had come off the mattress, there were glasses all over his bedside table. His clothes were thrown over the backs of chairs, and he had even been sleeping on top of a few articles that he had just not had the energy to move.

     He stumbled into the bathroom, clicking on the light as he entered. As he looked up in the mirror, he barely recognized the man staring back at him. He had lost weight, he looked sick. How did he let this happen? He turned on the shower, letting the water warm while he went to shave. He stared into the mirror as he spread the shaving soap over his cheeks. Suddenly he was staring down at the dangerously sharp straight razor laying on the vanity. It wasn't the first time the thought occurred to him that he could just let that razor slip. It would be over quickly. He wouldn’t have to handle the pain any longer. 

     He heaved a sigh and began shaving methodically, almost in a trance. He glanced down, rinsing the blade in the warm water. As his eyes came back to the mirror, he saw her, standing behind him in the slowly fogging mirror. Her arms came up and wrapped around his torso, her head resting on his shoulder from behind. "Raymond...stop this." her voice had an ethereal sound to it. Almost an echo. He stared into her eyes.

  
"How?" he whispered, his voice breaking. She blinked slowly at him and was gone again. He steadied himself on the sink a moment before finishing his shave and getting into the shower. Raymond knew how to stop this. He had done this before. It was hard, but he could do it again.

     The shower was almost too hot, but it felt fantastic. Cleansing. Burning away the months of neglect. He scrubbed himself too hard, his skin red and angry. It was time to move on to the next stage of his grief, and he could feel it building in his chest. Revenge.  
  
     He dressed himself the way he used to, the way he knew Liz liked. His dark blue suit was immaculate, his tie matched perfectly. He stepped out into the main room. The sun was just beginning to rise and fill the room with a soft light. Dembe was asleep on one of the large sofas, a book cradled on his chest. Raymond choked back a small sob. He had been awful to this man. He didn't deserve Dembe's loyalty or care. He didn't deserve his love.

     He moved over to the sofa, lifted the book from his friend's chest and laid a hand on his shoulder. "Dembe..." his voice was a low grumble but loud enough to wake the slumbering man.

"Raymond?" he was groggy, pulling himself into a sitting position and looking around. "I must have fallen asleep..." it was then that he noticed that Raymond was dressed. He looked up at him, smiled a little.

     Red smiled back down at him, "Come my friend. We have work to do."

 


	3. Chapter 3

Red sat in the front seat of the black Mercedes, staring out the windshield at the front of an upscale Italian restaurant in Annapolis. Matias Solomon was supposed to be meeting an associate there that afternoon. Red was going to have his revenge and it would be swift and absolute. He was tired of fooling around with this man. He was going to end it now.

Dembe nodded toward a white Cadillac that had just pulled up at the curb. A young, professionally outfitted black woman got out of the driver's side and moved around the car to the back seat. She opened the door and stood aside as Solomon stepped out, buttoning his tight fitting burgundy suit jacket. The man glanced around him before heading inside. The woman returned to the driver's seat and moved the car away from the curb and down the road toward the parking garage. They didn't have much time before her return.

Red glanced at Dembe and opened the door, stepping out into the cold. He lowered his hat down to shield his face from the wind, and moved toward the door as quickly as he could without drawing attention. He entered the warm dark restaurant. The smell of pasta overwhelming him. He was greeted by an employee wanting to take his jacket and hat. He waved them off, moving through the building. His eyes scanned the room, not seeing Matias anywhere. The more time he spent looking for him, the more time Solomon had to discover their plan.

He moved through to the back of the restaurant. Places like these kept back rooms for their more...private clientele. He could only assume Solomon would be there, and whomever he was meeting. He moved through a narrow hallway past the kitchen. There was a set of double doors at the end of the hall, guarded by a tall slender man in a suit. Red walked with purpose toward the door. The man put his hand out, holding Red's shoulder. "You're lost, old man. Dining room is back that way."

Raymond laughed cheerfully, "Silly me...you sure do get turned around in your old age..." he chuckled. He turned as if to leave, pulled his gun from the back of his pants, and brought it down hard on the man’s temple. He grunted and slid down the wall. The fake humor on Red’s face melted away instantly. He kept his weapon drawn as he slowly pushed open one of the doors to glance inside. He could see Solomon and an older Italian man sitting at a table in the center of the room. It appeared they were alone. He loved it when things worked out like this. With a small smile he quietly entered the room. He had felt Dembe come up behind him.  
As the door clicked shut, Solomon had glanced up from his plate. His eyes landed on Red and his face fell for a moment. Good, he was surprised.

"Matias, I would think with all the money you make killing people you could afford a suit that wasn't so ugly." He grinned as he moved inside, his gun pointed casually.

"Raymond Reddington..." Matias grinned, "Here I thought you had fallen off the face of the earth. Japan didn't treat you very well, I see.", he laughed loudly. The sound grating on Red's nerves.

The Italian man sitting opposite Solomon had his hands up in the air, his face white as a sheet. Red nodded at Dembe, who moved quickly and pulled the older gentleman out of his seat and shoved him toward the door. "Solomon, I have no desire to talk to you. The only thing I want from you is your life." he growled, moving slowly toward the table.  
  
At that moment, the door at the back of the room opened, a figure rushing in. It was a woman, small, a hooded sweatshirt covering her head. Something grabbed at Red's attention. Lizzy...

He winced, closing his eyes momentarily. When would these visions stop? A mistake. He heard Dembe yell out and as Red's eyes snapped open he heard the gunshot and the impact threw him back. He looked from his bleeding chest, to Solomon who had just finished hitting Dembe over the head with his pistol. Red looked quickly up to the figure he had seen run in. She was holding a gun.

"Solomon!" she screamed. To Red's amazement Solomon spun just in time for the figure to fire four rounds into his chest. It was real. His vision was blurring. She raced over to him, falling to her knees at his side. She shoved her hood down.  
"....Lizzy?" he whispered. He could feel the blood spreading over his chest. He could taste it in his mouth. She was there. She was shrieking at someone over her shoulder for help.

"Raymond! Please stay with me!" she was pushing hard down on his wound. He watched his hand move up and touch her face. She was real. He didn't understand but she was there with him. His hand fell, leaving a trail of blood on her cheek, and darkness fell over him.

 

* * *

 

  
     Raymond woke up in a hospital bed, set up in his apartment. His chest hurt, and he looked around, confused, attempting to shake the fog from his mind. It all came rushing back to him. Solomon had shot him. Someone else had been there. Lizzy...she had been there. Either he had totally lost his mind and was full on hallucinating now, or something was not as it seemed.

  
     He heard footsteps padding through the carpet, and as he looked up his heart stopped. She stood over his bed, dressed in a pair of his pajamas that were far too big for her. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. "Lizzy.....?" he croaked, his eyes filling with tears. She smiled down at him, though there was pain in that smile. There were tears in her eyes, "Raymond..." she almost whimpered.

"I don't understand...you were..." his mind racing. He had seen her dead, he had stayed with her body. She shook her head at him. "You saw what we wanted you to see...." his brow furrowed, and he shook his head in disbelief. Then it all hit him. The doctor, the monitors...Kate...

"You...faked your death?" It hurt him deeply. He felt betrayed. "For what?"

     She was crying now, her admission tumbling out, "To get away from you...to get my daughter out of this life."

     He couldn't bear what he was hearing. How was this real? He struggled to sit up in bed, but the pain shot through him again. "Lizzy...what have I done to make you hate me enough to do this?" He felt the tears well up in his eyes, dangerously close to falling onto his face.  
Liz shook her head at him again, "I don't hate you Raymond. I thought I did. I was scared for my little girl. I was afraid she wouldn't be safe..." she sniffled, pleading with him. She wiped her face and continued, "But I realize now that we were in danger because of who we are and..."

     He fought the well of emotions bubbling up inside him, "..and what, Lizzy?"

"...and I missed you. I missed you more than I should have." she looked almost ashamed.

"You have no idea how much....how much I've missed you, Elizabeth..." he growled, the tears welling up again.

     She nodded sadly, "Yes I do...it's one of the reasons I came back. I saw how much you cared for me...even after I was gone, and it just reminded me of how much I care for you. How much...." she sat down on the bed next to him.

     Red shook his head, the anger was rising up in his chest. Elizabeth hadn't been the only one to betray him. Kate had as well. It all made sense. He looked up at her beautiful face, and all he could feel suddenly was thankful. Thankful that she was here. Thankful that her body wasn't laying in the cold ground, under that stone with her name on it.

"What about Tom?", the question came out like venom. 

     She was silent a moment, looking down at her hands. She seemed lost in thought. Elizabeth looked back up at him, her eyes shimmering with tears. "Tom uh...Tom's gone. I woke up one morning and he was just gone. All his things were gone. He left a note that just said 'Sorry'.", she chuckled, "I am more hurt for Agnes...how her father could just...leave her." She shook her head and looked up at Red. "He has nothing to do with why I am here...why I needed to see you." her voice had dropped to a whisper.   
He found it hard to trust what she was saying. His brain was so fogged with pain medication that he was almost sure he would wake up from this dream at any moment.

"I saw you, Lizzy." he whispered. "I heard you. I felt you." his voice cracked and he couldn't bring himself to meet her gaze. "When you were gone...I saw you everywhere. It felt like you were right there with me at times. I mourned you." he looked up, shook his head. "How could you do that to me?" he felt the anguish wash over him anew. She had lied to him. She was afraid of him.

"Raymond...I am so sorry..." she responded lamely. Nothing she said in that moment would convince him of that.

"Did you need me for something? Is that it? Did you need help? Is that why you came back, Elizabeth?" His face had gone cold, stone-like. He was almost looking past her. He watched her face screw up with emotion and she shook her head.

"I came back because I made a mistake. I came back because of how I feel about you...", her voice was getting louder. He had made her angry. Good. He settled back on the pillow behind him. The pain was awful, but he couldn't afford for any more medication at the moment. He needed to feel the results of her betrayal. He needed to be angry for what he was about to do.

"Please leave, Elizabeth..." he whispered, staring up into her eyes. Her beautiful sapphire eyes that were rimmed now with tears and disbelief. His heart was breaking all over again but he couldn't bear to look at her and to think that she had always been afraid of him. He couldn't think that she had gone to such drastic measures to get away from him.

     She stared at him for a few moments, tears rolling down her cheeks, before she nodded and stood. He heard her changing and gathering her things. Dembe led her out of the apartment, whispering to her. Red stared at the wall of his bedroom. A man lost in his own mind.


	4. Chapter 4

     Weeks of rehabilitation, medications, wound dressing changes, and doctors passed too slowly. He wasn't a stranger to injury, but he always hated what came after it. Nothing made him feel like an aging man quite like not being able to walk across his apartment without getting winded. His body was scarred, battered. A testament to his lifestyle, he supposed. He remembered the look of shock on Lizzy's face when she had seen him shirtless for the first time, when they were on the run. He mistook it for disgust at the time. He felt like a monster without layers of clothes covering his mutilated skin. Dembe was the only one he could trust. He was the only one he would let help him get dressed, or get him in the shower.

          Throughout it all, his heart hurt. It hurt worse than when Lizzy was gone. He hated himself for the things he had said to her. He hated how betrayed he felt in the moment, with her standing there in his clothes, baring her soul to him. He hated how he had cast her out as she apologized.

     He couldn't blame her for getting away from him. It was true, he was dangerous for her and for her baby. He was just too stubborn most of the time to see that. He had gotten reprimanded by Dembe that whole evening. __How could you send her away, Raymond? After everything...__

     Yes, he knew. He had made a mistake. Dembe had been watching her, checking on her for him. She was depressed, lonely. She had taken up residence in a small cottage in the Italian town of La Maddalena, but not even the charming colored buildings or stunning beaches were keeping her happy. Raymond knew why she was depressed. It was the same reason it hurt him to be awake, to be sober. He needed her in his life. He had been hurtful and impatient with her, and drove her away.

     He was careful to have Dembe look out for any sign of Tom. Any sign she was lying to him about anything, but it seemed she was telling the truth. Tom was gone, in the wind. He couldn't handle being a father apparently, or a husband for that matter. He was good at playing one, but that was Tom the school teacher. Tom the naive husband. The real Tom had no idea what he was doing, and he apparently didn't care to.

 

     Raymond sat on the balcony of his Washington apartment, staring out into the night. He always loved the darkness. It made things simple. You only saw the bright spots when it was night. You never saw the dirt, the grime...the reality of the world when it was dark. Only the crisp cool air, the blinking lights of the city, and the sound of Frank Sinatra serenading him from inside the apartment.

     He found he couldn't take pleasure in a drink, or a book anymore. His cigars all tasted off. Though in reality, it had nothing to do with them. It had everything to do with what he was doing to himself. He was burying himself deep in his mind, like he had so many years before. It was a terrible place to live.

     He stood carefully, ignoring the dull ache resonating in his chest. His wound was just about healed now. An angry pink scar the only evidence of that day. He turned and let himself back inside, discarding the half full glass of scotch in the sink. Everything felt so empty, and pointless. He knew what he needed to do. He looked up to the other end of the apartment and yelled, "Dembe!"

 

* * *

     The sun in the sky above La Maddalena was the color of the deep blue ocean. It was ridiculous how beautiful it was. She had not gotten over it, and she had been there for months. The weather was gorgeous, the beaches perfect. The little buildings were old, crumbling, but so charming. She and Agnes had settled in nicely to town life. Everything moved a little slower in Italy, which was absolutely fine with her.

     She spent her days wandering the little markets, laying on the beach with her daughter, or spread out on her bed, reading one of the many books Red had always recommended to her. She had spent a lot of time locating and buying those books. It was something she could have of her old life. Something she could have of him.

 

     She woke up early one morning, made herself breakfast, fed and bathed little Agnes. She was just finishing getting dressed herself when Madeleine, her only friend and neighbor, showed up to take Agnes for the day. Madeleine was a gift from god when she just needed a day to herself. "Thank you so much, Maddie..." she whispered, handing over a napping Agnes into the small round woman's arms. "It means so much to me..."

     The woman smiled and nodded, "Any time you need me, I am here." her English was broken but she did quite well for someone who had never been out of this little town in her life. Initially, Elizabeth had been suspicious of everyone, but after the first few weeks, she found that in this town, your neighbors really did care about you, and not everyone was a spy or assassin waiting for the right moment to murder you.

     Liz walked down the little cobblestone road toward the market, the breeze from the ocean moving around her. She heard the market before she saw it. Heard the merchants laughing and haggling, heard the sound of the people talking together. It was wonderful there. So why did her heart ache so much? She put on her happy face every day, hoping to will away the sadness, the guilt.

     She had betrayed him, she knew. She had lied to him, hurt him. The only man in her life who loved her unconditionally, and she had nearly killed him. It was totally understandable now why Raymond had been so angry. He had gone easy on her actually. He had never yelled at her. He hadn't said horrible things to her. She could have handled that. It hurt so much worse to see his pain. To see his eyes dull and go far away when he told her to leave. The regret plagued her every day.

     She turned the corner and stopped short to look at one of the stalls. The man sold eggs, butter and bread every week. She could have gotten all of these things for less money and more convenience at the grocery but she loved buying as many things as she could from these merchants. These people who loved what they did, and lived off of it. She purchased her items, gathering them to her in a large paper bag before turning to move onward to other stalls. The crowd was large that day and just for a moment, she thought she saw someone wearing a fedora. The memories made her smile. She used to think he was the only man in the world who could wear a fedora and not look ridiculous. He looked amazing in them.

     She made her way through the different stalls, enamored with the hand crafted items. She kept catching glimpses here and there of a man who in her mind reminded her of Raymond. Young Italian men could wear things Americans couldn't. It was just more charming on them for some reason. She got to the end of the market and set her items down on one of the many little tables overlooking the beach. She had purchased an iced coffee and settled in to drink it. Her eyes scanning the little square, watching the seagulls fight over bread crumbs. Her eyes fell on a table across the way from her. Someone was sitting there, reading a book. It was the man in the fedora.

     Her stomach flipped a little, everything in her screamed Raymond. She was too far away and there were too many people between them for her to be sure. She stood, grabbed her bag and moved through the crowd. By the time she got here, he was gone. The book laying open on the table. She looked around, trying to catch any glimpse of him, but he was gone with the crowd. She lowered herself onto the still warm bench, and looked down at the worn hard cover book in front of her. __Persuasion__  by Jane Austen. She smiled to herself. She had recently read that book, and thought Jane Austen was a very boring author, though she always pictured Raymond enjoying it. She ran her hand over the open pages before closing the book.

 

     Elizabeth dropped her groceries off at home before heading down to the nearby beach with her book. She had dressed in some light capri pants and a sleeveless white shirt. Sandals seemed her normal footwear recently. There was no reason why she shouldn't wear them every day. She descended the steps leading to the beach, opening the small wooden gate and stepping into the warm sand.

     She found a place in the shadow of a large monastery type building on the cliff above her and laid her blanket out, plopping down in the middle of it. She opened her book, attempting to find where she left off while she kicked off her sandals.

     That's when she noticed something on the breeze. A familiar scent. The scent of wood and clove and tobacco. She glanced up and that's when she saw him. Standing against the concrete wall bordering the beach. Cigar in his hand, dark blue suit, sans jacket and that same fedora she had seen in the market. He was staring at her through those amber colored sunglasses he so loved. Her heart stopped in her chest. She felt joyous yet terrified. She stood, stumbling a little. Her brain was still trying to catch up to what her eyes were seeing.

     She started to walk toward him, her feet sinking in the sand with each step. He tilted his head at her, and the smallest smile formed over his lips. That's when she knew. She started into a run. He had come for her.

 

__Raymond..._ _

__

     He reached over and put his cigar out on the concrete next to him, tossing it into the nearby trash can and began to walk toward her, almost leisurely. His face the only thing betraying his casual act. He was just as overwhelmed as she was. Just as she neared him, he quickly tossed his hat aside with one hand and caught her in his arms. She collided with him, knocking the air from her and forcing him back a few steps. She felt his arms around her, holding her tightly. She panted, her hair flying in her face. Her arms locked around his neck and she buried her face in his chest. She could hear his heart hammering as if he had been the one running.

"Lizzy..." he whispered into her hair. She melted. She had dreamed of hearing her name in his voice again. She thought she had lost him forever. He pulled her back and stared into her face for a long moment, his eyes rimmed with tears. She smiled at him, her own tears rolling down her cheeks.

"Raymond...you came for me..." she whispered.

 

"Of course I did...how could I not?" his own voice low and deep. He smiled a crooked little smile.

 

 

* * *

 

     She led him by the hand back to her home. Maddie wouldn't be back with Agnes for hours yet, and she wanted to say so many things to him. He followed silently, never looking away from her for a moment.

      She unlocked and opened the front door, revealing a small charming Tuscan style cottage. Stone floor tiles covered in plush rugs. A large overstuffed couch, and a few chairs in the same style. It was cool and dim in the house. The sheer curtains pulled over the windows. She closed the door behind them, and tossed her bag down on the small table beside the door. She looked up to find him staring at the large bookcase. All the books he had ever mentioned to her. She couldn't see his face as he ran his fingertips over the spines of the books, and she felt slightly embarrassed. It was like your junior high crush finding your journal with his name in hearts. Her cheeks flushed, and he turned to her. His face was a well of emotion, but his eyes were dark.

     She had never seen that look before. He looked almost dangerous. He slowly took his hat off and set it on the back of the couch, followed by his sunglasses. He looked up at her and drew a deep breath. She froze, she didn't know what to do, what to say.

     Then he was moving, closing the space between them in three large strides, she felt his hands grip her waist and suddenly he was within an inch of her face. He was staring into her eyes, his breath coming in quick pants. His gaze flicked down to her mouth and she saw his tongue swipe the inside of his mouth. __Oh hell...__

     Heat flooded through her and she tilted her head up, gently running her lips over his. It was so slight, feather like. She heard his breath escape him, his eyes closed. It was a long moment before he opened his eyes again, and another as he stared at her, seemingly fighting with himself.

     Suddenly he pulled her by her hips toward him and crushed his mouth to hers. His warm lips working her mouth open, his tongue swiping briefly against her own. She groaned and threw her arms around his neck, responding in kind. He was ravenous, like a man dying of thirst finally finding his oasis.

     He lifted her, wrapping her legs around him as he pushed her against the nearby wall. His mouth moving over her cheek to her jaw, kissing and nipping as he went. She moaned as his lips found that spot just under her ear that drove her wild. "Lizzy..." he whispered against her ear, one of his hands moving down her side, tracing the landscape of her body with his fingers. He untucked her shirt quickly, running his hand up underneath, desperately searching for skin.

     She slid down, her feet landing on the floor once more. She grabbed hold of the front of his vest and pulled him down the hall into her bedroom. His pupils blown wide, eyes dark, making him seem so predatory. Gone was his careless charm and boyish smiles.

     Her bedroom was minimally decorated. A large dark room, and at the center a large bed with a dark canopy over it. Blankets thrown messily around, pillows in disarray. There was a single corner lamp, casting just a golden glow over the bedroom. As soon as they were within the room, she frantically pulled her shirt over her head and shoved her capris down, stepping out of them. She looked up to see him staring at her hungrily. That look in his eye made heat hit her like a tidal wave.

 

"Raymond, you have far too many clothes on...." she panted.

 

"Patience, sweetheart..." he growled, turning her so the backs of her thighs hit the edge of the mattress. He ran his slightly rough, warm hands up her back, his mouth finding hers once again. She felt his fingers snap the clasp of her bra. She gasped as he pulled it off of her and tossed it to the ground. With a small grin, he pushed her gently back onto the bed and crawled up between her legs so they were face to face once again.

     Her heart was racing as she felt his hands move down her sides, one resting on her hip, the other softly cupping her right breast, the rough pad of his finger brushing slightly over her nipple, causing her to gasp and arch up into his hand. His mouth kissed down her torso, mapping her entire body with his lips.

     She bit her lip and watched as he neared the waist band of her panties. She needed him there, she needed his touch. She groaned and pressed up against him, but was pushed back down into the mattress by his hands. "Patience, I said..." his whisper against her skin taking her higher. The pressure at her core growing painfully. Her mind whirled. How was this possible? He had barely touched her and she could come undone for him right now if he asked her to. She had never felt this way with anyone before. Before she could think too deeply on the subject she felt his fingers run down her center, teasing her through her cotton panties. She groaned, pushing up against him, desperate for any kind of pressure or friction.

     Again, she was pushed back into the mattress, his voice drifted up to her, "Don't make me tie you up. I told you to have patience, my dear."

 

__Oh god..._ _

__

     If she weren't desperate to feel him, she may have teased him into doing just that. He seemed to sense her struggle and chuckled against her abdomen, laying a hot opened mouth kiss just under her navel that made her moan.

"Raymond...please..." she whimpered. He was still a moment. A long, painful moment, before she felt his fingers hook into her waistband and pull them slowly down her legs. He ran his hands up her legs, parting her thighs with his palms. He kissed up from her knee, nipping gently with his teeth at her inner thigh, making her yelp.

"You are so beautiful..." he groaned, before finally giving her what she wanted. She felt his tongue run ever so gently up her core, his mouth closing on that little bundle of nerves at her center. She couldn't help herself, she cried out, grasping the blanket near her head. He repeated this motion a few times, running the flat of his tongue up her, driving her crazy. "Raymond, I'm so close..." she whispered, her nails running over the back of his head. He smiled, gently inserting two fingers into her, while once more putting his tongue to work on her clit.

     All it took was a few thrusts into her with his fingers curling up as he pulled them back out and she was crashing down into her orgasm. Crying out, her body arched up against him and he rode it out with her, letting her come down gently. He crawled up between her legs, and gently ran his lips over hers, savoring her sweet flavor. Her eyes opened, and it was her turn to look hungry with lust. "Raymond, you are still wearing too many clothes..." she grabbed hold of his shirt and pulled him down into a deep kiss, the rough material of his vest rubbing against her nipples, sending a jolt to her core.

     Her hand went down between them and she found him hard, straining against his pants. She gripped him firmly through his pants, causing him to gasp, then groan her name in the most sensual way she had ever heard. She could tell he had been putting off any kind of pleasure for her. He stood up and off the bed, her disappointment evident. She crawled up onto her knees, reaching for his belt buckle. He chuckled at her as he started to slowly unbutton his vest and shirt. He shrugged them off, letting them drop to the floor. Revealing his chest, dusted in golden hair, firm and lovely. She could see the many scars that peppered his body, but she had seen these before. They didn't surprise her, nor did she care that they were there. She ran her fingers over the newest scar, the one he had received because of her. She gently kissed it, hearing his breath catch in his throat. She started to undo his belt, pulling his slacks down and letting them fall to the floor, leaving him in only his dark boxer briefs. She jumped up onto her feet, sliding around him until he was facing away from the bed.

     With a wicked grin, she put her hands on his chest and pushed him back onto the bed. The image of him mostly naked among her pillows was something she would never forget. He startled but laughed low under his breath, "You really are impatient, aren't you Lizzy..." She crawled up on top of him, straddling his lap. She kissed his lips softly, echoing his treatment of her. She kissed down his jaw, loving the feel of the stubble beneath her lips, loving his scent. The smell of cedar and amber and rain. She kissed down his neck, her tongue swirling over the scar from when she first met him. She had stabbed in the neck with a pen. It seemed like ages ago. As her tongue touched over the pale skin there, he jumped, groaning. She could feel the evidence of his arousal under her, and she ground down gently on him, eliciting more wonderfully sensual noises from him.

     His hands came up and roughly grabbed her hips, pulling her down against him. She whimpered and ran her nails down his chest before finally grabbing the waist band of his underwear and pulling them down his legs and off. He took the opening in her guard, and grabbed her, flipping her over onto the mattress, looming over her. "Lizzy..." he had stopped, was staring into her eyes. There was worry there.

"Raymond...what...?" she whispered up at him, concerned.

 

"Tell me this is what you want..." he winced a little, "that you want me...not just this once." his voice was low. He looked desperate.

 

     Realization dawned on her, and she ran a hand down the side of his face, "I want you Raymond... I do love you..." she whispered, staring into his beautiful green eyes. He stared at her a moment, a gentle smile on his face before he lowered himself down and kissed her gently at first, then slowly gaining momentum until they were locked in a passionate embrace.

"I want you...I need you now..." she groaned into his ear. That was all he needed, his hand came down and lifted her leg up so he was between her thighs. He buried his face in her neck, kissing up her jaw as he finally entered her. His groan reverberated through her, sending shock waves down to her core. She yelled out, grasping onto his shoulders as he sunk himself into her.

 

"Oh god...Lizzy..." he whispered, gently starting to move inside her.

 

"Yes...yes..." she moaned into his ear. His pace quickening, slamming hard up into her. How long had she waited for this. How long had she thought she would never have this? She could feel her orgasm building again, her breath coming in ragged pants. His jaw was set and she could tell he was holding back, waiting for her.

  
"Let go, Lizzie..." he whispered, bringing his hand down between them, his finger running small circles on her clit. It only took a moment before she was spasming around him, screaming his name into his shoulder...and that's all it took for him to join her in orgasm. His body stiffened, the low groans slowly fading into heavy breathing as he collapsed with her onto the bed.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

     His heart sunk into his stomach when he walked in the front door of the cottage from a walk, to find Lizzy staring at her cell phone. She had been crying. "Lizzy...what's happened?" he set down the little bag of wine he had picked up and moved over to her.

 

"That was Tom..." she sniffled, looking up at him briefly before her eyes dropped back to her phone. He nodded. Of course it was.

 

"I see..." he said quietly.

 

"He wants to come back...he wants to be in my life again..." she looked up at him with an expression he couldn't read. Fear gnawed at him. Part of him knew the last few weeks here with her had been a fantasy he'd been living out. He had only been waiting for the confirmation. He nodded, easing himself into one of the nearby chairs.

 

"I can be gone within the hour, if that's what you want from me, Elizabeth." he growled. He tried to contain his anger, but the thought of that man laying a hand on Lizzy made him sick. After everything they had been through, he thought they had finally found home with each other. He looked up at her, and found her staring at him, her head tilted to the side.

 

"Raymond..." she stood, moving over to him, resting her hip on the arm of the chair, her hand coming to rest where his neck met his shoulder. "Do you really think that little of me?"

 

     His head snapped up in surprise. He narrowed his eyes, "Lizzy...?"

 

"I told him no." she whispered, rubbing small circles on his shoulder. "I didn't tell him anything except no."

 

     He nearly sobbed, his relief hit him so hard. He nodded, covering her hand with his. She smiled down at him.

"I didn't realize I could scare the Concierge of Crime so easily..." chuckling lightly. He glared up at her, grabbing her and roughly pulling her down into his lap.

  
"Do I look scared to you, Elizabeth?" he growled against her ear, one of his hands running down her thigh, the other holding her in his lap. She squirmed and moaned, pressing into him. Suddenly he stopped, smiled impishly down at her. "I didn't realize I could reduce the one and only Elizabeth Keen to a quivering mess so easily..."

 

     She growled and slapped him hard on the chest, jumping up and away from him. He laughed, remaining seated. Lizzy stared down at him, and he recognized that mischievous look in her eye as she started to unbutton her blouse slowly. He stared at her, unblinking, a bead of sweat appearing on his forehead.

     Liz grinned and finished unbuttoning the shirt, sliding it slowly down her arms and onto the floor. Underneath she wore a lacy dark blue bra that left little to the imagination. "Dear lord..." he murmured as she popped the button on her jeans, slowly unzipping them.

     She turned her back to him, pulling her jeans down slowly over her backside and the matching blue panties hidden there. She stepped out of them and turned slowly to face him. "Who's the quivering mess now, Mr. Reddington?" she joked in a sultry voice. She walked over slowly and lowered herself into his lap.

     His teeth chewed the inside of his cheek for a moment, before he smiled up at her, "Careful not to start something you can't finish..." he growled lowly.

     "Oh I don't have any doubts about that..." she grinned, leaning in to kiss him tenderly on the lips. "I love you Raymond..." she whispered, suddenly serious.

     His eyes stared down at her and the smile that spread over his face was pure happiness, "I love you too, Lizzy..."

 

 

 

Fin

 

 

 


End file.
